Preacherman
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From Roanoke.com (http://www.roanoke.com/roatimes/news/story156802.html):
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
His guns are more than just weapons - they're works of art
Daniel Frank Cadle isn't in the business of selling guns. He repairs, refinishes and restocks them. He also custom builds them to fit the hunter.
By DONNA ALVIS-BANKS
THE ROANOKE TIMES
FAIRLAWN - In the hushed shelter of the deer blind - surrounded by tall grass beginning to dry and fade and the frosty smell of Jack pines - a young Daniel Frank Cadle opened and closed, opened and closed his grandfather's old double-barreled LeFever shotgun.
His inquiring mind had to know. How did it work?
"I would open and close that thing a hundred times," Cadle remembered 20 years later, as he sat in the office of his business, DFC Custom Gunsmithing. Perhaps it was his early curiosity that led him here, to open one of the few gunmaking shops in this part of the state.
Cadle was 14 that day when he bagged his first buck with his grandfather's LeFever, a boy becoming a man in a long line of men who treasured their time in the woods of Michigan. For the men in his family, guns - like arms and eyes and ears - were part of the anatomy.
As a gunmaker, Cadle's job is to make the gun fit the hunter. That means accounting for the hunter's strengths - and weaknesses.
"It's absolutely personal," said the 34-year-old craftsman, explaining that his job begins by taking stock of the person who will carry the gun he makes.
"It takes 1 1/2 hours just to get all the measurements," he said. "I build a gun to fit the type of person."
Frequently, that means building "handicap" guns for people who have long arms or short arms, people who favor the right eye or the left eye, people who are stout or slight.
Cadle takes his time because he understands the love affair between hunters and their guns, an understanding that has been years in the making.
When he was 17, Cadle's interest turned from guns to helicopters. He joined the U.S. Army in 1986 and found himself working on chopper turbines 3,000 miles across the Atlantic.
But Germany - a country known for its beer and Bavarian food and masterful craftsmanship - stirred something intrinsic to Cadle's nature.
In the shops of Suhl in Germany's Thuringian Forest, Cadle found his calling. The gunsmiths of Suhl - a city long reputed as Europe's armorer - made exquisitely detailed and exceptionally functional firearms.
"I saw those guns, and the passion of seeing that craftsmanship immediately went into my blood," he recalled.
Hunting excursions in Germany only fueled his fascination.
"The old hunters grew on me. They had these beautiful weapons. I decided it was something I had to do. I had to learn how to do that."
So after his discharge from the Army in 1990, Cadle set his sights on studying the art of gunsmithing in Suhl. He was told he couldn't enroll until he perfected his German, a task that took a year.
After mastering the language, Cadle was ready to master gunmaking.
"I got really excited the first day," he recalled. "I thought, 'Here I go - I'm going to be making guns!'"
But his first assignment was learning how to build screwdrivers. Soon after, he was given a file and a hunk of steel and told to make a 1-inch block. His exacting mentors measured it all the way around.
"That's how they teach precision," he noted.
He was assigned to a master gunsmith in one of Suhl's shops and told to go get chisels, go get files, go get breakfast.
"I was a gofer," he said, shrugging. "You don't get to do what you want to do right away. That's how you learn patience."
He spent seven years studying in Suhl and in Ferlach, Austria, the two most renowned gunmaking cities in the world. Most of the 24 students in his class were German, although there was one other American, as well as students from Africa, Holland and India.
In Germany, gunsmithing is a college-level academic program, not just a vocational program. It requires classroom instruction as well as hands-on training. It took Cadle two years to earn his associate's degree, another two for his bachelor's and two more for his master's. He received a doctorate with an additional year of training.
With this training, Cadle became adept at making guns from start to finish, at repairing broken hammers, stocks, barrels and triggers and at engraving intricate designs on gunstocks made of rich French and Circassian walnut.
But his "absolute specialty," he says, is making combination guns that join rifles and shotguns in a single unit. He has even made combination guns with as many as five barrels.
Combination guns, Cadle explained, are more popular in Europe than in the United States. The hunting seasons - much longer in European countries - make the multipurpose guns more practical for mixed-bag hunting.
When Cadle left Germany, he settled in the New River Valley because he figured he would have a better chance of operating a successful business here than in his native Michigan where, he noted, "there's a gun store on every corner." He heard about the area from a local man who had sold him some books on hunting.
"I had never been to Virginia before in my life," he said.
His first customer, 64-year-old Bill Bell of Dublin, was excited to find a German-trained gunsmith in the area. A collector of German guns, Bell said it was difficult to find local craftsmen who could work on them.
"I was having to go to Vinton all the time, but the gunsmith there was limited in what he could do," Bell said. "Daniel - I don't think he hardly has any limitations.
Cadle said the first gun Bell handed him was a Mauser that "looked like a dog had chewed it."
"It was full of dents and needed a lot of attention," he recalled. "I told him I would have it ready in approximately seven to 10 days."
Instead, wanting to make a good impression, Cadle stayed up all night working on the rifle. When Bell got it back the next day, he took one look and said, "Well, where did you get that weapon? That couldn't be mine." "I was just real, real pleased," Bell said, "so I immediately gave him some other guns to do."
These days, Cadle can't promise such quick turnaround on his work.
"He's a young man and he's busy," noted 60-year-old John Lanum, a customer from Ironto. "But when he's got the time, he can do you excellent work."
The cost of Cadle's work, Bell and Lanum agree, is reasonable. It's hard to quote a price range because the cost is based on the quality of materials and the detailed options customers want.
While much of his work is for customers from out of state, Cadle enjoys the one-on-one rapport he has with local hunters and collectors. Each October, he hosts a cook-out where they get together to devour wild boar and exchange ideas.
He doesn't do a lot of advertising. The GUNMAKR license plate on his Ford truck and the vertical GUNSMITHING sign at the driveway to his shop on U.S. 11 are sufficient.
"If I advertised," he said, "I wouldn't be able to run the place."
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
His guns are more than just weapons - they're works of art
Daniel Frank Cadle isn't in the business of selling guns. He repairs, refinishes and restocks them. He also custom builds them to fit the hunter.
By DONNA ALVIS-BANKS
THE ROANOKE TIMES
FAIRLAWN - In the hushed shelter of the deer blind - surrounded by tall grass beginning to dry and fade and the frosty smell of Jack pines - a young Daniel Frank Cadle opened and closed, opened and closed his grandfather's old double-barreled LeFever shotgun.
His inquiring mind had to know. How did it work?
"I would open and close that thing a hundred times," Cadle remembered 20 years later, as he sat in the office of his business, DFC Custom Gunsmithing. Perhaps it was his early curiosity that led him here, to open one of the few gunmaking shops in this part of the state.
Cadle was 14 that day when he bagged his first buck with his grandfather's LeFever, a boy becoming a man in a long line of men who treasured their time in the woods of Michigan. For the men in his family, guns - like arms and eyes and ears - were part of the anatomy.
As a gunmaker, Cadle's job is to make the gun fit the hunter. That means accounting for the hunter's strengths - and weaknesses.
"It's absolutely personal," said the 34-year-old craftsman, explaining that his job begins by taking stock of the person who will carry the gun he makes.
"It takes 1 1/2 hours just to get all the measurements," he said. "I build a gun to fit the type of person."
Frequently, that means building "handicap" guns for people who have long arms or short arms, people who favor the right eye or the left eye, people who are stout or slight.
Cadle takes his time because he understands the love affair between hunters and their guns, an understanding that has been years in the making.
When he was 17, Cadle's interest turned from guns to helicopters. He joined the U.S. Army in 1986 and found himself working on chopper turbines 3,000 miles across the Atlantic.
But Germany - a country known for its beer and Bavarian food and masterful craftsmanship - stirred something intrinsic to Cadle's nature.
In the shops of Suhl in Germany's Thuringian Forest, Cadle found his calling. The gunsmiths of Suhl - a city long reputed as Europe's armorer - made exquisitely detailed and exceptionally functional firearms.
"I saw those guns, and the passion of seeing that craftsmanship immediately went into my blood," he recalled.
Hunting excursions in Germany only fueled his fascination.
"The old hunters grew on me. They had these beautiful weapons. I decided it was something I had to do. I had to learn how to do that."
So after his discharge from the Army in 1990, Cadle set his sights on studying the art of gunsmithing in Suhl. He was told he couldn't enroll until he perfected his German, a task that took a year.
After mastering the language, Cadle was ready to master gunmaking.
"I got really excited the first day," he recalled. "I thought, 'Here I go - I'm going to be making guns!'"
But his first assignment was learning how to build screwdrivers. Soon after, he was given a file and a hunk of steel and told to make a 1-inch block. His exacting mentors measured it all the way around.
"That's how they teach precision," he noted.
He was assigned to a master gunsmith in one of Suhl's shops and told to go get chisels, go get files, go get breakfast.
"I was a gofer," he said, shrugging. "You don't get to do what you want to do right away. That's how you learn patience."
He spent seven years studying in Suhl and in Ferlach, Austria, the two most renowned gunmaking cities in the world. Most of the 24 students in his class were German, although there was one other American, as well as students from Africa, Holland and India.
In Germany, gunsmithing is a college-level academic program, not just a vocational program. It requires classroom instruction as well as hands-on training. It took Cadle two years to earn his associate's degree, another two for his bachelor's and two more for his master's. He received a doctorate with an additional year of training.
With this training, Cadle became adept at making guns from start to finish, at repairing broken hammers, stocks, barrels and triggers and at engraving intricate designs on gunstocks made of rich French and Circassian walnut.
But his "absolute specialty," he says, is making combination guns that join rifles and shotguns in a single unit. He has even made combination guns with as many as five barrels.
Combination guns, Cadle explained, are more popular in Europe than in the United States. The hunting seasons - much longer in European countries - make the multipurpose guns more practical for mixed-bag hunting.
When Cadle left Germany, he settled in the New River Valley because he figured he would have a better chance of operating a successful business here than in his native Michigan where, he noted, "there's a gun store on every corner." He heard about the area from a local man who had sold him some books on hunting.
"I had never been to Virginia before in my life," he said.
His first customer, 64-year-old Bill Bell of Dublin, was excited to find a German-trained gunsmith in the area. A collector of German guns, Bell said it was difficult to find local craftsmen who could work on them.
"I was having to go to Vinton all the time, but the gunsmith there was limited in what he could do," Bell said. "Daniel - I don't think he hardly has any limitations.
Cadle said the first gun Bell handed him was a Mauser that "looked like a dog had chewed it."
"It was full of dents and needed a lot of attention," he recalled. "I told him I would have it ready in approximately seven to 10 days."
Instead, wanting to make a good impression, Cadle stayed up all night working on the rifle. When Bell got it back the next day, he took one look and said, "Well, where did you get that weapon? That couldn't be mine." "I was just real, real pleased," Bell said, "so I immediately gave him some other guns to do."
These days, Cadle can't promise such quick turnaround on his work.
"He's a young man and he's busy," noted 60-year-old John Lanum, a customer from Ironto. "But when he's got the time, he can do you excellent work."
The cost of Cadle's work, Bell and Lanum agree, is reasonable. It's hard to quote a price range because the cost is based on the quality of materials and the detailed options customers want.
While much of his work is for customers from out of state, Cadle enjoys the one-on-one rapport he has with local hunters and collectors. Each October, he hosts a cook-out where they get together to devour wild boar and exchange ideas.
He doesn't do a lot of advertising. The GUNMAKR license plate on his Ford truck and the vertical GUNSMITHING sign at the driveway to his shop on U.S. 11 are sufficient.
"If I advertised," he said, "I wouldn't be able to run the place."
" the roanoke times should've checked his credentials better , he has NO proof of his training and furthermore his "SKILLS"(or lack thereof) prove it.
